


Flight Instinct

by spicycake



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Comfort/Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Gen, Hospitals, M/M, Mahealahey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-26
Updated: 2013-07-26
Packaged: 2017-12-21 11:26:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/899743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spicycake/pseuds/spicycake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place immediately after the ending of "Currents" (episode 3.7) -- there is only so much Isaac can take, so he seeks comfort with his newfound family. He finds that comfort, however, with a somewhat less-likely acquaintance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flight Instinct

He had told them to go.

Derek had told them to go.

So, with Cora’s ugly sobs echoing in the blue-dark corners of the room and Jennifer still transfixed in the doorway, Isaac went. 

It only occurred to him in the blackened stairwell that the Alphas could still be in the building, and instinct eared him down into a crouch, belly squirming with the familiar driving reflex to make himself small. He pressed his tightly-closed eyes into his drawn-up knees for a moment on the stairway landing. The jagged angles of Derek’s face, slack with shock and tear-glazed, were burned behind his lids, and his skin crawled with the feeling of Boyd looking down over him, lifted high on the Alphas’ claws. 

Looming. _Judging_. 

A desperate, panicked whine broke out of Isaac’s throat as he pushed down the stairs again, nearly tripping onto all fours. He couldn’t smell the Alphas nearby, but it wouldn’t have mattered even if he could as he burst out the back door of the apartment building and took off in a sprint into town.

The hospital was bright, warmly-lit and noisy, and the rush of encapsulated air released by the sliding doors was sharp with antiseptic that made Isaac want to sneeze — and beneath that, the place reeked of adrenaline and fear. He turned, looking across the mass of people…nurses clustered at the registration desk, newly-scrubbed physicians jogging from ward to ward, clench-jawed visitors milling around family members seated and waiting. His sensitive ears picked up endless murmurings of emergency, emergency — doctors transferred from County Catholic and General two towns over, one more ambulance arriving within the hour. Police reports. It was loud. Everyone was loud. Everyone was upset — there were emergencies and life was moving on in a painful whirlpool and up in Derek’s loft in the dark Boyd was dead and maybe it was even his fault—

"Isaac!"

He whirled on his heel, nearly falling over a parked wheelchair, and Melissa caught him by the arm and shirtfront before he could overbalance. He gripped her wrist, breath coming in sharp pants as his knees threatened to drop. "—M-Mrs. McCall—you—"

"I took an extra shift." The woman’s face was bare of makeup, hair damp. But the sleeve of her scrub shirt was creased from somebody’s anxious grip and there was a splash of betadine down the front. She’d been on duty an hour already, maybe more. “Isaac, what are you doing here?" Her dark eyes were intense before they widened. “Scott…where’s Scott—did something happen?"

Yes. He shook his head instead, a tight negative, watching the nurse’s brow crease in suspicion for half a moment before his vision filled and blurred.

Melissa released his shirt, but not his elbow, lips pressing in a thin line as she pulled her phone from her pocket, frowning to find no new messages from her son. _Her son. Scott._ Isaac swallowed thickly, forcing his breath into a more human rhythm. _She doesn’t know what he's doing. She doesn’t need to know this happened…not now._

"Sit down." She was guiding him to one of the lobby chairs. “I have to pick up somebody’s rounds. I’ll be back in a little while, okay? Just stay here—"

She left him in that chair, with its scratchy synthetic upholstery.

Left him, for what seemed like eternity in the span of minutes, a few blinks of the digital clock high up near the ceiling. Isaac ran fingers through his hair, sweat-damp at the temples and the back of his neck. He wanted to curl up under the chair, wanted to pace, wanted to climb out of his skin.

Instead, he began to walk.

The corridors were a more focused chaos, and monotonous white walls carried him around corners, through brightness too harsh to let anything hide. He was exposed. His mistake. 

They should have stayed away.

Nobody stopped him as he walked, shoes scuffing the linoleum. A few eyes met his, then moved on, accustomed to haunted bystanders.

A familiar scent gusted in the back of his nose then. Friendly.

The room was a single, thankfully, and welcomingly dim at the late hour. But the occupant of the bed looked confused enough that Isaac nearly backed out into the hall once again.

"…what are you doing here?"

Danny looked well. Better than he probably should, even with already-heavy eyelids further weighed down with sedatives. Isaac hadn’t been entirely clear what had happened to his teammate from Scott’s account — something about a needle and mistletoe, but he couldn’t make sense of the two. “I, uhm…" He cleared his throat, skirting the back of the room, eyes darting to and from the other young man’s face. “Just visiting."

Danny watched him approach the closed windowblinds, expression softening to something more neutral. “It’s after hours."

"Yeah. I’m…sorry, you—probably don’t want me here." Isaac looked at his shoes, squirming a little, remember all too well the last time he’d watched Danny pull Ethan’s arm over his shoulders, expression confused and concerned, the Alpha’s own face bruised, bloody and mocking as Isaac crept away amid Finstock’s bellowing and Scott’s quiet disapproval. “I don’t really get along with your boyfriend." The words were like ash in his mouth, making his throat close.

"He’s not my boyfriend," Danny replied simply. “And that’s none of my business."

Isaac bit down on his tongue, trying to keep his nostrils from flaring as he tracked the scents in the room. Traces of hostile intruders lingered, but Stiles had been there more recently, and Mrs. McCall. Then, traces of _Acqua di Gio_ and Danny’s own scent, a more muted version of the thick testosterone musk that marked his locker and lacrosse pads. It wasn’t unlike Scott’s own…confident. Quiet. Steady.

Danny just watched him quietly, head tilting on the pillow to follow his movements. “Are you okay?"

 _No._ He wasn’t okay. _I’m not._ His eyes were stinging again, and Isaac folded his arms roughly, tucking his hands against his ribs, gaze slanting away as he shook his head.

"Sit down."

Isaac approached the bed hesitantly, squinting a little, his skin all but twitching with the urge to drop to his belly, lick his nose and tuck the tail he didn’t have. He sank into the chair next to the bed, the quiet of the room laying over his tense back and Danny there, watching him expectantly.

He didn’t know what to do with his hands, so he placed them deliberately on the bed rail. One, then the other. His knuckles whitened before he really realized it. Danny frowned a little, his face all slopes and strong lines, but his eyes were calm when Isaac met them again — he shifted his arms to the rail, folding them there.

"Bad night?"

 _Easy question._ Isaac was horrified at the quaver in his voice when he answered. “I can’t tell you."

"That’s all right." A long, solidly-boned hand lifted, trailing the IV line with a soft tap against the plastic bedframe, and rested on Isaac’s elbow. “Bad nights happen."

Isaac shuddered, lowering his forehead to his folded arms.

Danny’s hand moved to the back of his neck, reassuring and strong, and stayed there.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fanfic I've written in a ridiculously long time, and I had *not* expected it to be for this show. A friend asked for it on a whim, and here it is! I tagged it Gen and M/M because it's pre-slash if you like, but simply pre-friendship/comfort if you don't. If anyone knows how to better indicate that please let me know!


End file.
